


Tension

by commodorecliche



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neck Kissing, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sexual comfort, Sharing a Shower, Showers, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Teasing, Tenderness, face in the mattress, for real i don't know what else to tag this with but it's filthy okay, graphic smut, hands and knees, insert beyonce gif here, just know that going in, like a lot of filth, neck biting, post-battle comfort sex, raunchy sex, taking comfort in each other, um....filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 04:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorecliche/pseuds/commodorecliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their lives as paladins certainly aren't easy. Caught up in the middle of an intergalactic war, and left wondering if every battle they face might be their last, their lives are filled with plenty of stress. But they've won them all so far, and as far as Shiro is concerned, every battle they survive means another night he can spend at Keith's side. Their lives are kind of rough and definitely stressful, despite the noble cause, but the moments they have together are more than enough to ease the tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just post-battle smut and filth with some fluffy feelings. (like, that summary made this sound so much more poetic than this is. for real, this is poetic smut.) 
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely beta [boysblush](https://boysblush.tumblr.com). Thanks for staying up late and looking over this at 4 am

Not all battles are easy-wins, and that’s a fact that Shiro knows all too well. Hell, the memory of the blood on his hands from his gladiator days should be reminder enough of that fact. As a team, all of them have suffered their fair share of beatings and bruises; they’ve felt the muscle strains, the scraped or cut up flesh, the exhaustion that comes after the struggle to survive. He supposes they’re lucky the castle has health pods - mending their bodies in nigh-extraordinary time.

But it does little to ease the tension, the stress, the overall exhaustion that comes from it all.

After their latest struggle, all five of the paladins - although not grievously injured - spend their fair share of time in the healing pods. It takes hours in the pods to heal up, but they emerge mostly restored, albeit still worn down, from the war that has pushed their bodies and minds to the edge. Shiro has no trouble telling them all to relax and sleep, to try to regain as much energy as they can. Lance is the first to agree, followed quickly by the others, as they shuffle off to get some well-deserved rest.

The five of them walk along paths they know well by now, feet splitting off almost automatically in separate directions towards their respective quarters. But Shiro is hardly surprised when he feels the gentle grip of Keith’s fingers on his hand, tugging at his arm and ushering him down the hall away from his own bedroom and towards Keith’s instead. If he’s honest, Shiro would say he’d expected this moment - had even looked forward to it. This gesture had become nothing short of a post-battle ritual for them. Keith’s small gesture to grip along the curve of Shiro’s fingers, Shiro’s quiet eagerness to curl his own fingers around Keith’s in return, letting his companion lead him wherever he so chooses.

Once inside Keith’s bedroom, the door closes behind them with little more than a pneumatic hiss, leaving the two of them in the comforting silence of privacy. Keith says nothing - and Shiro doesn’t really expect him to - they exist past words and have for some time now. Instead, he ushers Shiro slowly back against the wall, pressing his chest flush against Shiro’s, before craning up to reach his mouth.

The kiss is chaste, soft and gentle in the silence of the bedroom, and lingering only for a moment before Keith pulls back and cocks his head towards the bathroom. Shiro knows without having to ask. The health pods may have mended their tattered flesh, but has done little to cleanse them of the unspoken scars of war they bear each time they return from battle. Shiro lets Keith drag him along, pulling the two of them into the water before it’s even warm.

It cools their heated flesh before warming them up again from their cores, and Shiro has to take a moment to bask in it. He rolls his head, neck, and shoulders beneath the gradually heating water and lets it calm his body as it does. But the ache in his body dissipates more as he feels Keith’s slender arms wrapping around his middle, lithe hands sprawling across the muscles of his stomach.

Keith’s chest presses flat against his back, his face nuzzling against the heated flesh of Shiro’s back, ignoring the water as it trickles across his skin. Shiro’s muscles flutter as Keith peppers his lips across his back and shoulder blades, and he doesn’t hesitate to lift a hand to cover Keith’s across his chest.

“You’re tense…” Keith murmurs against his skin.

Shiro inches forward to bring them both into the stream of the showerhead.

“I know,” Shiro agrees. He squeezes Keith’s hand softly, letting himself clench it just a fraction tighter against his chest. “We should relax and rest…”, he whispers, voice just barely audible above the sound of the streaming water.

“Mmm,” Keith agrees, “And how shall we _relax_?”

Keith punctuates his question with the steady, downward drift of his hand. The words he hasn’t said ghost across Shiro’s body in the lines that Keith’s fingers leave across his stomach. Shiro tries to quell the burn that begins to build in his gut at the sensual drag of Keith’s touch as it edges beneath his belly button.

Shiro hums, his other hand coming to rest atop Keith’s, stopping its movements. He’s sure Keith is ready to protest, but Shiro doesn’t let him. He turns around in his partner’s arms and ducks his head down, capturing Keith’s mouth with his before his protestations even have a chance to leave his lips. The water streams hard against the back of his head, some of it flowing past him and against Keith’s face and hair as well, the rest of it gliding down his neck and back.

Shiro winds his arms around Keith, fingers pressing into the lithe muscle of his back, trying as best he can to keep himself from digging in too hard. Keith melts into him, allowing Shiro’s hands to guide him closer, pressing their bodies flush together as he purrs against Shiro’s lips.

Keith lifts his arm and lets his fingers splay across Shiro’s face, wordlessly urging his mouth to open, asking for a deeper kiss. Shiro obliges him, always willing to give Keith whatever he desires. Shiro parts his lips, tongue edging out to touch Keith’s, heat curling up inside him once again at the languid slide of Keith’s tongue against his own.

The hand against his face urges him on, fingers curling before sliding upwards into the short strands of hair along Shiro’s temple. Keith wants to grab at something, and Shiro knows it, feels his fingers rub at the short buzzcut, fingernails scraping at his scalp. Shiro chuckles and lets his own hand slip up into the lengthy hair at Keith’s nape. His fingers wind around the dripping-wet locks and he tightens his grip, clutching at Keith’s hair and pulling him away briskly. Shiro separates their mouths, tries not to let the keening whine Keith emits get to him, before swallowing thickly and leaning in close to his lover.

His lips brush against Keith’s as he speaks, but the grip his fingers have on his hair keep him from craning up to reclaim Shiro’s lips.

“Bedroom,” Shiro hums, punctuating the word with playful, teasing nips at Keith’s mouth.

Keith groans; his fingers of both his hands curl abruptly, fingernails once against scraping along Shiro’s scalp and back, but he nods, licks his lips, and agrees.

“Yeah. Yeah okay.”

**::**

They barely take the time to dry off - towels dragged across their bodies in rushed, hurried motions in a frantic attempt to get to the bed. Droplets of water cling to their skin and hair as they lower themselves down atop the sheets, and Shiro has no problem letting Keith shove him down to the mattress before straddling his hips. Keith folds himself atop of Shiro, hips pressing down insistently against Shiro’s, their bare cocks grinding sinfully against the other.

Shiro tries to suppress the groan that builds up in his throat, but he can’t contain it as Keith’s fingers thread insistently through the longer hair atop his head, gripping what little they can and tugging with assertive purpose. The moan spills past his lips and Keith tugs his head to the side, exposing the taut flesh of his neck.

Keith bites at it with need; his teeth sink into the skin as Shiro’s hands slide down the line of his back to his ass. He grips at each cheek, hands urging Keith’s hips to roll against his own once more. Keith obliges, setting a gentle rhythm to grind his hips down into Shiro’s, he savors the short bursts of friction and pleasure it brings. He drags his tongue across the muscle and tendons of Shiro’s neck - feigns innocence and pretends not to notice the goosebumps that prickle across Shiro’s skin as he does so.

“God, _Keith_ …”

The hands on Keith’s ass give each cheek another hard squeeze before quickly lifting to thread their way around Keith’s back. Shiro’s arms tighten their grip around the smaller man, using his legs to gain a fraction of leverage to flip them over and switch their positions.

Once they’re rolled over, Shiro keeps Keith’s legs sprawled around his own, spread wide and read to accommodate Shiro’s form. Shiro wants so desperately to simply reach down between their bodies, wrap a hand around their aching cocks, and bring them to a much-deserved release. But it’s too soon, it’s not enough, and he knows that his restraint will pay off in the end.

Keith’s arms wrap around Shiro’s shoulders, but Shiro resists. He pins Keith’s arms down against the mattress in one swift motion, hovering his face close as he breathes against Keith’s lips.

“What do you want?”

“I…” Keith stammers, arms pushing back against the pressure of Shiro’s grip, so desperate to touch now that it’s been denied.

Shiro rolls his hips pointed against Keith’s, widening his thighs a bit between his legs to spread them just a fraction further open.

“Anything, _Takashi_ …” Keith whimpers.

The name alone is enough to light a fire in Shiro’s gut. The growl he emits as he dives in to taste at the skin of Keith’s neck is purely accidental. He digs his teeth into the flesh rapidly before wrenching his mouth away from Keith.

“You want me?” Shiro asks once more. His fingers grip at Keith’s wrists against the mattress before loosening and sliding up to interlock their fingers.

Keith nods urgently.

“Anything. Shiro, I….”

Shiro nods curtly and steals one more brief kiss before lifting himself off of Keith. Keith looks confused for a moment and ready to protest, or at least ready to tug Shiro back down close to him, but Shiro doesn’t give him time. Instead, he scoots back, moving out of Keith’s sprawled legs, and splays a hand across Keith’s hip. His hands usher Keith over to his stomach, before both hands grip at his hips, guiding him to cock his ass up off the mattress a bit.  
  
Keith obeys, if only because he knows exactly what’s coming next. 

Shiro releases a breathy groan, filled with unfettered desire as both his hands grip at the flesh of Keith’s ass. He squeezes the cheeks, parting them for a moment, before rearing one hand back and clapping it against Keith’s rear with a firm _smack_. 

Keith grunts throatily, reveling in the sting of the slap, and juts his ass out just a fraction more, silently begging for whatever else Shiro will give him.

Shiro’s fingers curl, fingernails dragging along the skin of each cheek, before squeezing and parting them once again. He exhales slowly, licking a broad, full stripe against Keith’s entrance, holding on tight as Keith’s body jolts beneath him. Shiro’s grip won’t let him squirm too much, intent on keeping him here to ride out the sensations. He flutters his tongue against Keith’s hole - light and teasing at first, just how he knows Keith likes it - before growing more firm and insistent.

He feels Keith fumble under his ministrations, his hands grappling at the sheets, burying his face into them as he lets Shiro tongue him open. Shiro gives him a few more insistent licks before withdrawing, eyeing Keith’s hole, now wet with his spit. He takes a moment to lick his finger, bringing it to rub in the slick at Keith’s entrance. Shiro rubs at the rim for a moment, not entering, but teasing just enough to elicit desperate grunts from Keith.

“You love when I do that, don’t you?” Shiro muses, finger applying slightly more pressure as it circles around Keith’s entrance. “Just love how much I rile you up. God look at you,” he presses his finger in _just slightly_ , edging it in up to the first knuckle, wet only with his spit. “So pliant for me…”

“God, yes…” Keith whimpers, hips canting back at the press of his lover’s finger.

“Hell, you’d open up for me with just my mouth, wouldn’t you? No lube, just spit, you’d love for me to open you up like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Keith breathes, “Yes, Shiro, please.”

Shiro hums, but doesn’t proceed, withdrawing his finger just enough so he can massage at Keith’s hole once more.

“Mmm, no, baby.” He hums with a click of his tongue, “You deserve better than that, yeah? It’ll be so good. Just hang on.”

Shiro tries to ignore the pained whine that Keith emits once he breaks contact, standing from the bed to grab at the salve he knows Keith keeps in his desk. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Shiro sees Keith start to push himself up onto his elbows. He clicks his tongue quickly and Keith stops instantly.

“Uh-uh, sir,” Shiro scolds, making his way back to the bed. He lets his hand drag languidly along Keith’s spine up to his shoulders, tenderly easing his lover’s head back down to the mattress. “You _relax_.”

Shiro’s voice is little more than an affectionate coo. He slides his fingers back down along the length of Keith’s spine, stopping at his tailbone to grab at his hip instead. With a quick tug, Keith cants his hips back once more, cocking his ass up just a bit further as his head settles back down to the comforting softness of the bed.

Sat behind Keith, Shiro’s hands focus on opening the salve, but he replaces the touch of his hands with another slow lick across Keith’s entrance. He smirks as Keith grunts and jolts at the touch, a shuddering breath leaving his lips. The salve open, Shiro coats his fingers liberally, not hesitating to let two of them rub tenderly over Keith’s hole.

He’s eager at this point, desperate to simply slip the two of them into his lover without hesitation, but he holds himself back. Desire barely restrained, Shiro slides one, long finger inside, breath leaving his chest with a tremble at his tight warmth.

“God,” He shudders, already pumping the digit in and out of Keith, basking in the sound of Keith’s voice as it shakes in the quiet bedroom.

“Another,” Keith tells him, voice muffled only by the sheets beneath him, “Please,” he begs, and who is Shiro to deny him?

With another shallow thrust, Shiro adds a second finger, pumping it only a couple of times before sneaking in a third. Keith is so fucking hot and tight, and yet so pliant and welcoming around him that all Shiro wants to do is slide his cock into him fully. But he can’t, not just yet, something inside of him telling him to drag this moment out for just a bit longer.

“That’s three, babe,” He whispers, “Think you could do another?”

Keith nods curtly, eyes shut and forehead creased in yearning.

“Tell me,” he instructs, emphasizing his request with another slow, languid pump of his fingers.

“Please, Shiro. I want another.”

“Fuck,” Shiro slides his pinky in slick that he’s rubbed so liberally across Keith’s entrance before gently easing it in beside his other three fingers. “Oh my god,” he breathes, watching as Keith takes him in without resistance. He fucks into Keith slowly, curling his fingers _just so_ to press against that spot he knows drives Keith crazy.

“M-more, Shiro. _Harder_ …”

“Gunna be the death of me, I swear. Look at you…” Shiro’s other hand grapples at the flesh of Keith’s ass, gripping tightly before leaving a light smack against it. Keith hisses at the contact, whether from the sting of the spank or the chill from the metal of his prosthetic, Shiro isn’t sure, but the noise he makes goes right to his cock. “You open up so good for me,” Shiro breathes. He fucks his fingers into Keith slowly - long, languid strokes that let him truly see how Keith stretches and takes him in.

Keith rocks his hips back in time with Shiro’s thrusting fingers; he pushes up to his elbows if only to give himself more leverage to fuck himself back onto his partner. Shiro watches his motions with fascination, pumping in and out of him, while lifting to his knees to rub his hand up the length of Keith’s spine. He meets the hair at the base of Keith’s neck with care, threading his fingers through it tenderly before curling to grab a firm handful. He tugs hard enough to pull Keith up, though not hard enough to hurt, and fucks his fingers in and out more rapidly.

Keith keens and whimpers and groans, and Shiro knows those sounds all too well, knows that Keith is getting closer to the edge.

“Are you getting close?” Shiro hums at him. His hand is still threaded in Keith’s hair, helping support the other man on his knees, while the fingers of his other hand do nothing to slow their actions.

Keith can only nod in response - his jaw is slack and open, the only sounds slipping past his lips his ragged breaths and throaty whimpers. But at his nod, Shiro stops immediately, pulling his fingers out of his lover abruptly. Keith whines, actually _whines_ at the loss of sensation, and squirms fitfully in Shiro’s grip. He’s desperate, close, aching for more touch, and Shiro knows it.

He says nothing, but releases his grip on Keith’s hair in favor of grabbing his hips and flipping him over. Keith relaxes back to the bed, his legs spreading automatically as Shiro climbs between them. The tops of his thighs press insistently against Keith’s hamstrings, revelling in how wide Keith opens for him. He slicks himself up in a matter of seconds before lining himself up with Keith’s entrance and pressing in.

Keith groans low as Shiro sighs, his hips pushing forward to bury himself fully.

“I won’t last long,” Keith whimpers into his ear as Shiro eases down close to his lover, and frankly, that’s exactly what he’s been aching to hear.

“I know,” he breathes. He drags his tongue along the shell of Keith’s ear and thrusts firmly.

A chill shivers its way across his skin at the sound Keith makes in his ear. His hips rock as Keith’s lips nip and taste along the flesh of his throat. He loves to break Keith down, loves to make him moan, make him whimper, make him fitful and desperate for more, but even Shiro has his breaking points. He can only hold on so long before his own need for his partner overcomes him, before Keith breaks him down in kind.

Shiro buries his face against the camber of Keith’s neck; his hips thrust hard and deep - not fast, but rhythmic and intense. Keith’s cock is hard against his stomach and all the desperate, urgent sounds he makes tell Shiro that he’s just on the edge.

If Shiro’s honest, he knows he won’t last long at this point either.

Keith wraps one arm tightly around his back. His fingers press into his flesh hard enough to bruise, hard enough for Shiro to lift his head from the crook of Keith’s neck in a desperate urge to kiss him. But Keith doesn’t let him. One hand still wrapped around his back, Keith’s other hand comes between their faces. His fingers press gently against Shiro’s mouth, and Shiro doesn’t even question him before opening his mouth to suck his index and middle fingers in.

He sucks on the digits hard, dragging his tongue and lips along them in time with the stuttering thrusts of his hips. He knows Keith loves the way his mouth feels, he can see it on his face: warm and wet, velvety smooth, he knows he could drive Keith up the wall with his mouth alone. But before Shiro can even process it, Keith wrenches his fingers - now slick and wet with saliva - from his mouth and laces his arm around Shiro’s back.

But Keith’s fingers don’t grip his body or press against his muscles; instead they trail a gentle, wet line down the expanse of Shiro’s back towards his ass. Before Shiro can even think, Keith’s fingers are sliding below his tailbone and between his cheeks.

Keith’s reach is limited, but he’s got enough leeway to easily touch Shiro’s hole. The slick, moistened digits don’t enter him, but they play and press along his rim in time with the thrusts of Shiro’s hips. Keith presses his middle finger against him with a guttural moan, and Shiro can only fuck him harder because he can feel the way Keith’s hole is tightening around him - getting close to his own orgasm.

With a loud, keening whimper, Keith’s muscles tighten suddenly, Shiro’s name on his lips as he comes in warm spurts across both their stomachs.

“Oh my god,” Shiro moans, feeling as Keith’s fingers twitch against his hole. He thrusts harder, just as he feels the flat pad of Keith’s middle finger press harder and edge just past the rim of his entrance - shallow if only because he can’t reach far enough to push it any deeper. But _god almighty_ is that touch enough. Shiro’s hips stutter, pounding harder in a last few jolted thrusts before feeling the white hot intensity of his orgasm take him over.

“ _Keith_ …” He breathes, burying his head once more against the curve of his lover’s neck.

**::**

Not all battles are easy-wins, and the both of them would be fools to believe otherwise. But the battles that bruise them, strain their muscles, cut their bodies, and push them to the point of breaking are still easy enough to forget so long as they’ve made it back alive.

Because Shiro knows that every hard-won battle will be followed by healing. The stress and anxiety will always be met with relief and affection; hard-earned release to combat the fears of struggle.

They won’t always win - Shiro knows that too - but for now, they’ve got each other to mend in the aftermath.

**::**

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to formally apologize to every family member that ever believed I would grow up to be a person devoid of sin. I'm sorry that y'all were so very, very mistaken. 
> 
> I hope y'all liked it; it sure was fun to write. I'd love to hear any comments you guys have. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://commodorecliche.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/commodorecliche) \- come hang out!


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